


Whiskers

by teorema



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Draco Malfoy, Cats, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Harry Potter is Whipped, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Smut, Some angst, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teorema/pseuds/teorema
Summary: Harry is finally living the closest to a normal life, finally paying attention closely to his surroundings, and Draco Malfoy’s silence has been catching all his attention. While he makes failed attempts to befriend him, he ends up finding an unusual new friend, a white cat that keeps on visiting him.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	1. Wonders and the white cat.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello... So this is my first Drarry work, I got recently into the ship and my writer bones really wanted to write something about them, and this is my attempt. 
> 
> English is not my first language, so if anything sounds weird that’s probably it. 
> 
> Other chapters will be longer, this is just a small peak into the story! 
> 
> I hope you like it!

Mornings aren’t Harry’s favorites, he never was a morning person, also he’s more of a night person, which makes mornings even harder. But sleeping in a tower makes him enjoy them more, because the sun passes my small gaps of the window, the sky is always colorful, light blue with shades of yellow, and a faded pink. He takes a while looking at the window, before he realizes he’s hungry, he gets lazily inside his robes, and everyone has already left.

It comes to a time, the Great Hall isn’t something that surprises you anymore, it is indeed brilliant, and every morning when it’s filled with food, it is reconfortating actually, but he remembers days when he walked into that huge place, and was completely dumbfounded by the view, the sky, all those people. It’s more empty nowadays, it just got reconstructed. And familiar faces are even difficult to find. Not many people came back, and Harry doesn’t know if they ever will, it was incredibly traumatic to go back at first, every place reminded him of something bad, going around knowing people he loved once laid there, lifeless, made his only real home bittersweet. And it hasn’t been easy to anyone. Sometimes after all those things they had to deal with they forget how young they were, and that they’re still 18 year olds, dealing with all those situations. Teenagers are already rather troubled, and it’s even worse when you have to fight a terrible war.

Ron is dealing with things his own ways, pretending it doesn’t bother him, Hermione takes things extremely analytically, trying to take her emotions in a way that is more smart, she’s better at self preservation. Neville seems to have a better spirit than before, and he’s the only one that showed some improvement since the war. Ginny has always been someone tough, and lately they aren’t very connected, some people don’t talk to Harry as much on the Gryffindor table, and over the other ones, Luna seems to be a little more distant than normal, head full of wonders, and Harry knows he will never understand them if he was good with getting into people’s minds. He wonders often about those who sit more far, that might live completely different timelines, that where in other sides, much of them fleed, the table filled with green robes is not as crowded, and Harry can sometimes feel the heavy energies over the heads of every being sitting there.

The more familiar of faces, are of those he has encountered a lot of times, some more than others. Blaise Zabini is there, he talks more than most of his classmates, quietly though, with not much emotion, Harry sees his lips moving, but all those words look lifeless. Pansy Parkinson is one of a kind, she’s normally the only one who answers Blaise, she talks louder, but rarely, which is surprising. And there’s always the most silent of beings, someone Harry never was able to read, and at times he feels regretful from never being allowed to know about that person’s life, he has some kind of hero complex, and that person that stays quiet through all those months was someone that Harry didn’t know needed helping. His face is always blank, the snob gaze that once was there is now replaced with a lot of nothing, he’s different, his hair is longer, more curvier, still in place but he doesn’t look much like the perfect boy he used to be. Draco Malfoy isn’t in any way his own self, and with that Harry also thinks that he was never his own self either. 

Harry’s life who now is rather normal, other than the traumas, and the fame, it become easier for him to pay attention to his surroundings, being always caught up into something more is definitely something that can blind you at times, overwhelm you, and that’s the feeling he got the most, overwhelm. He always thinks how his life would be if he didn’t have to grow with all the expectations, a life without being the Chosen One, and now he sometimes can live like that, but all the things he had to go through have been more difficult for him to cope with. He thought that after it was all over his nightmares would fade, that his expectations would calm down, but he’s still Harry Potter, and that’s a thing he will carry to his grave, his own reputation is something that won’t die. 

His eyes go quickly to the Slytherin table, and he quickly watches Draco, he tries his best to be invisible, and Harry doesn’t know why that doesn’t work with him. It’s like now that he’s there, silent and distant, he catches even more of his attention, maybe it’s just weird seeing someone you had so much bad hatred for because of his words utterly silent. Harry wants in some way to get him to talk, even if it’s something offensive or hateful. And he doesn’t have much else to do, and he wonders if he could try on talking to him at some point. And then he wonders what he will answer.

Harry eats quite well, it’s a Saturday he’s free for the day, and after eating well he’s probably going to chill in his room for a while, because he’s tired lately, he has to get his NEWTS and it’s pretty annoying to study that much. The worst part is that he doesn’t even know what he’s studying for, what he wants to really do when it’s all over, he wanted to be an auror, but Harry is sick and tired of adventures, fighting, even though he thinks he was born to do that, to be a fighter. He’s making sure that at least he has Newts for that, if in the end he ends up choosing that. Harry goes straight to the Gryffindor Tower, not talking much.

When he gets in his room, he’s glad no one is there, he wants to enjoy some time alone. Well, maybe not completely alone because when Harry goes to his bed, in the small table right beside it there’s an unknown figure. Sitting there, he sees white fur that seems incredibly soft and it’s pretty big. He takes a good look at the soft being there, it has fierce greyish blue eyes, it’s ears are up and seem to be paying attention, it’s nose is pink. And it’s staring at him, there’s a beautiful white cat right by his bed, staring deeply at him. He’s having a staring competition with a cat he has never seen before. 

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks confused and for a while he waits for an answer, like the cat could answer his question, he almost laughs when he remembers it’s a cat, and it won’t talk to him. But the cat seems to understand what he asks, moving it’s head, and it’s ears, it doesn’t make a single sound, he just looks at Harry more curiously, “Are you lost?” Harry asks now more softly, he gets closer to the cat, and it stares at him carefully as he gets closer, he doesn’t move but Harry can see the cat doesn’t look amused.

Harry is close to the cat that looks up at him, with his eyes more open, like it’s scared. And Harry has so many questions he doesn’t know who to ask, because if he did, the cat obviously wouldn’t answer. Harry moves his hand forward and when he’s getting closer the cat’s paw is placed on his hand, like it’s telling him to stop. He wants to laugh, because the cat looks at him funny, like he’s threatening, but it’s way too cute to be threatening. 

“You don’t like being petted?” Harry asks the cat, who still looks at him with it’s big greyish eyes, and there’s something inside him that feels like the cat is going to answer him because it blinks slowly at him, while his paws go back in place. Harry sits in the bed, curious about the presence of that cute being beside him, and the cat moves its head carefully looking at him, “You’re staying?” Harry asks, his voice so incredibly soft, he doesn’t talk like that often, but there’s no other tone he can use with such a cute being. The cat moves his head, and stays there, “I guess that’s a yes,” Harry laughs. 

It reminds him when Hermione’s cat used to give him a visit, he liked being petted though, sometimes he would bite but normally he would brush his body against Harry’s leg and wouldn’t stop until he got petted. Harry enjoys cats a lot, he thinks they’re cute, and they’re also incredibly moody, which is pretty amusing, and that cat seems like the moody ones, he stares at Harry with a blank expression and Harry watches him too. And it’s quite funny because the cat seems very grumpy but it’s face is cute and furry, he has big whiskers and it’s very slim but seems a little chubbier because he has long fur. 

Harry lays in bed, looking at the ceiling above him, and he’s kind of bored. He lays to his side to face the cat, he really wants to pet it but he knows the cat won’t let him do it. The cat realizes Harry is staring and stares back, his eyes half closed, like he’s frowning, “What?” Harry asks, and of course it doesn’t answer him, because it’s a cat, but it’s funny how he seems to understand him, and Harry thinks again about where he came from, “Do you belong to someone?” He asks, and the cat blinks slowly, he keeps thinking about it, because for a moment he gets a little paranoid. What if someone sent that cat to spy on him? What if he’s in danger again? Harry’s stomach twists at the thought. He hates he can’t even enjoy the presence of a cat without being scared of his life. 

“Are you spying on me?” Harry asks then suddenly, because if he is at least whoever sent him will know that he’s not falling for that, and the cat looks at him with a weird expression, and Harry gets startled because the cat is very expressive, “If you’re not spying on me, say meow,” Harry asks in a attempt to communicate with that cat, and he thinks he might be the stupidest person alive, asking questions to a cat, and it’s incredibly surprising when the cat looks at him and lets out a cute meow, Harry can’t help but smile, and the cat is still looking at him with a threatening kind of gaze, “You better not be lying to me, cat,” Harry says and it sounds so incredibly childish, he’s so glad that cat can’t laugh at him. 

Harry stays silent for a while then, and the cat is still there with him, silent too, and he feels kind of lonely having a comfortable silence with a cat. He craves for comfortable silences with someone lately - not a cat - maybe getting through a war makes you needy, he doesn’t know shit about psychology. And he hates that he's not interested in anyone, and his friends are not exactly silent either, so staying with them sometimes makes him feel even more lonely, people are pairing up also, everyone is getting more romantic, more affectionate, and Harry is alone, with a cat that doesn’t let Harry pet it. It’s even worse getting interested gazes from students, getting frightening love letters, and feeling absolutely nothing. Years ago when he had no time for affairs, he had some awkward relationships that wouldn’t work, crushes he couldn’t spend time with, and now that he’s bored to the core, there’s no relationship, no crushes, love interests, people he likes watching. Other than Draco, who he spent some moments watching, but Draco Malfoy isn’t a love interest, Draco Malfoy is an intriguing figure that lingers around the castle, silent, making Harry incredibly curious. 

Boredom has been very difficult to cope with, and Harry sighs, the cat looks at him, curiously, Harry looks at the white cat, “I’m bored,” He says, and it’s dumb, because the cat doesn’t awnser to him, obviously, the cat doesn’t care if he’s bored or not, it’s a cat. But there’s no one new on sight other than the cat to talk to, so that’s his life now, talking random things to a cat, “Why am I talking to you,” Harry whispers to himself, and the cat is still staring at him, and Harry wonders if cats have thoughts, and if they had, what is that cat thinking. 

“Is it a spell that could make you talk?” Harry asks, and once again it sounds dumb, and he thinks that actually there must be something, magic is incredibly filled with answers and there’s a lot you can do with it. Sometimes Harry is still dumbfounded that he has a piece of wood that can make almost everything, starting from bringing him something that is far to actually harming someone, it’s incredible to him that he’s capable of almost everything. Growing up, in a small smelly room underneath the stairs Harry never thought he could be something, or do something, other than the weird stuff his mind could do, he felt completely powerless, with no way out. Being completely humiliated also made him feel like the most insignificant being to ever exist, and the transition to a powerless skinny child to one of the most important people around is still something he can’t wrap his head around. To have nothing, and then to have almost everything. 

Boredom hits once again, and Harry stares at the cat, and finds it licking one of his furry paws, unbothered, “You’re very cute,” Harry says softly, and the cat stops licking to pay attention to Harry, and it lets a sound, Harry doesn’t talk in cat language or understands cats at all, but it seems like he’s complaining, telling Harry he isn’t cute, “You don’t think you’re cute?” Harry asks the cat who lets his paw down, and stares at him like he’s frowning again, that cat is indeed very expressive. It lets out a meow that sounds like a no, and Harry bursts into laughter, “If that’s a no, you’re lying,” Harry says, holding back the urge to pet that cat’s head, “Because you’re adorable,” Harry says softly and the cat looks at him, his ears move back and he looks very pissed at Harry. The cat jumps out of the table and Harry stares at it while it walks forward, “You’re leaving because I told you’re cute?” Harry asks in a playful way, and the cat lets out a long meow while he keeps walking, Harry laughs, and the cat leaves his view.

He’s less bored now, a pet can always bring some good things to your heart.


	2. Nightmares and Advices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s crazy isn’t? I’m going insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m here again, is small too, it’s still the same days and things are getting more fun now, i hope people like it...

Harry is walking around hogwarts, his heart is beating faster and faster as he walks, he sees destruction everywhere, he sees blood stains and a feels a soreness in his leg, as he gets inside the Great Hall, the floor is filled with bodies, ones that are small, other are bigger, he sees Molly crying from afar, as he walks he sees a purple head, and right beside it, holding her hand, a man, Remus. There’s pain, and there’s then, green lightning and a long scream of a woman, and quickly he sees Sirius Black’s body fading in front of him. Harry drops to his knees and he feels the taste of blood on his mouth, he cries, and he screams, his body trembles like he’s facing the coldest of days without a piece of clothing on his body. Everything gets so incredibly quiet, and his tears are still rolling when he finds himself sitting, he opens his eyes and the lightning is yellow, he looks up and finds himself sitting in the Great Hall. Right in front of him, he sees the familiar blonde hair and fair skin, he stares at him, Draco is looking down, his expression is blank and his greyish eyes seem down. Harry mouths Draco’s name and nothing gets out, it’s silence, lingering silence. And when Harry is about to mouth it again, he feels his body falling back, the view of Draco getting more far.

Harry jumps in his bed, his body is filled with sweat and when he fully opens his eyes he finds himself in a dark room, small glimpses of light coming from the window, Harry looks up to find the moon almost staring at him, it’s a full moon. Every time Harry sees a full moon he feels like he’s back at his third year, and he remembers all the confusing feelings and situations, he remembers so clearly his hatred for Sirius, the way the thought of him would bring him a anger so deep he couldn’t deal with, he remembers how Remus felt like family, how he had to focus himself so deeply into happy thoughts while his head was filled with things far from happy. He remembers too how conflicting growing up a little is. In his third year he started noticing girls and well, blokes too, and that was completely insane to his small mind. 

He can recall thinking that some girls were pretty, and he almost laughs reminding the way he used fight with himself everyday he has some heated argument with Malfoy, he hated that boy, he hated listening to his voice, but his mind sometimes would say that Malfoy was growing up and that he indeed looked beautiful, and it used to bring a lingering confusion. It got worse, 4th year he met Cedric and Cho and he was very sure that indeed he could feel attraction to both. Malfoy used to pick fights with him a lot, and do things that would make him upset, and he got prettier and prettier. Now he's still so conflicted about everything, now doesn’t feel that deep hatred towards Malfoy, and he’s still pretty, sad, quiet, but pretty, and at times he wants to unfold his brain, he wants to know what he’s really like. And then again, the boredom of his 8th year is messing with his brain, maybe Harry misses adventures and Malfoy now looks like one, dangerous, flawed, with things to discover, Malfoy is a fight, and maybe Harry wants to fight again. 

Harry moves himself in bed, his hair is still glued to his forehead, but he feels less sticky from sweat. He hopes he's just hyperfocusing on details, too scared to change, he doesn’t know. Being still a teenager takes a toll on him, because he has matured and everything he had to deal with is huge, but still he’s a teenager, filled with doubts, curiosities, and fucking hormones, and goddamn the hormones. 

He sits on the bed, and stares at his room for a while, getting up right after, he decides to go down to the common room, he goes down, most of his eight years are hanging out, he looks for his friends and finds Hermione sitting reading a book with her hair in a messy bun. Harry goes towards her and she feels his presence, looking back at him. She smiles.

“Hey, Mione,” Harry says softly, pulling a chair right beside her, sitting down, he stares at her calm face, and the small curls falling on her forehead, Hermione was always a beautiful girl, still, he always thought of her as a sister:

“Did you have a bad dream?” She asks, concern lingering on her eyes, Harry lets out a laugh, screeching the back of his head. 

“Is it too obvious?” He asks, faded memories of the things he dreamed with running through his mind. Everything he has dreamed about before, but Malfoy, and he doesn't know what to think about his dream with him.

“Honestly, I don’t know if it’s just straight up obvious or if I just know you enough to realize,” She says and Harry lets out a small laugh, “Can you tell me your dream? It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” She says, Harry knows she’s concerned, she’s an overthinker, Hermione always shows in her eyes how easily she gets worried. 

“It’s okay,” Harry says small, it’s not okay actually, but he doesn’t want Hermione to be more worried about him, he can take it, saying it out loud, “The aftermath of the war, Remus, Tonks, Fred…” He says, a small pain starts to grow in his chest, “Sirius… My mom…” He says, and he takes a long breath before finishing, “And Malfoy,” He says and it is almost a whisper, like saying it out loud would tell everyone around him the thoughts about Malfoy.

“Malfoy?” She asks, frowning, Harry stares at her perfect eyebrow that is now up, and he regrets telling her, he hates lying and he never was the boy that lies, but that messes with his self preservation, “That’s new,” She says, her voice sounds weird, she’s thinking about it, and Harry doesn’t want to know what’s going on inside her brain, “What was it about?” She asks, and Harry looks down at his fingers.

“Well,” He says, cleaning his throat that didn’t need it, it’s anxiety, burning inside him, “I was sitting in front of him in the Great Hall, and I tried talking to him, but my voice wouldn’t come,” He says, quickly almost saying every word wrong, he takes a long breath, “I don’t know why I had this dream,” He says then, trying to express that it is random, that Harry doesn’t want anything to do with Malfoy, that it’s not something he thinks about often.

“I know you hate when I do this, but you know every dream has a meaning?” She asks, and Harry sighs, nodding, and she stares at him with soft eyes, “Harry, do you feel any desire to talk to Malfoy?” She asks and Harry sighs again, he feels trapped, completely trapped, and then regret hits again, for once, he wanted to be good at lying, to have something inside himself that would stop his urges to tell the truth. And then Harry looks at his hand, “I must not tell lies”, his stomach twists.

“Mione,” He says, small, in a whisper, maybe if Hermione wasn’t so smart, things would be much easier, very much easier. But she does make things difficult for him, “I thought…” He says, and words get stuck in his throat, Harry sighs again, “I thought about it,” He says and she frowns again, “It’s crazy isn’t it? I’m going crazy,” He says, in complete despair, Hermione sighs.

“It’s human, just human,” She says then, Harry opens his mouth and closes again, unable to answer her, to ask her more, even to ask permission, because he feels like he has too, he feels like he has to ask permission to everyone Malfoy every treated badly before talking to him. To apologize to anyone he has hurt, so he can think about him and talk to him without all that guilt. 

Harry goes back to his room, head to full to talk, interact, and when he arrives, laying in his bed, a familiar figure. Harry smiles, he smiles so largely it brings so much relief, he doesn’t want to be alone. Harry actually hates being alone, he has grown up so alone, so hopeless, that now being without the presence of someone makes him feel like that hopeless 10 year old, waking up because someone is jumping on the steps over his head. And being with that cat, now that Edwig is gone, is comforting. He’s not alone, but no one is asking questions he doesn’t know how to answer. 

“You’re not mad with me anymore?” Harry asks the cat that looks at him, the cat is with his eyes half closed, almost like he’s judging Harry, and then the cat looks away, and Harry laughs, “I guess you are,” Harry says playfully, and then proceeds to sit in the corner of the bed, then, he moves himself to the very bottom, crossing his legs, and staring at the cat who lays there comfortably, “Stealing my bed?” Harry asks, and the cat looks at him again, eyes the same way they were before, he wants to say he looks cute mad, but the cat would leave again, “So bad of you, bad cat,” Harry says, smiling, and the cat blinks slowly, and then lets out a small meow that almost sounds like he liked being called bad.

“If you’re going to visit me often I might just give you a name,” Harry says and the cat looks at him with curious greyish eyes, it’s eyes remind him of someone, he can’t remember who, “Since you’re always grumpy, I’m going to call you Cranky,” Harry says holding on his laugh when the cat gives him that gaze with half closed eyes, “You don’t like it?” Harry says, struggling to keep his laugh inside, and the cat lets out a long meow that sounds like a no. 

“See, Cranky matches you perfectly,” Harry says now, laughing at the cat, and he’s so cute, and looks so mad at him, with his ears back, “I’m so glad you can’t talk, I’m sure you would curse at me,” Harry says and his eyes grow bigger when the cat nods, “You nodded at me?” Harry asks, completely surprised, that cat is one of a kind, and it leaves him even more surprised that the cat nods again. 

“So you do understand everything I say,” Harry says, more to himself than to Cranky, who is staring at him with it’s big greyish eyes, he’s so mad that cat doesn’t let him pet it’s soft fur, because it looks like soft clouds, and he doesn’t know how a cat that might be stray is so clean and beautiful like that, there’s not a spot of dirt on his fur. The cat nods, “Can I ask you questions, then?” Harry asks and the cat moves its head telling him no, “You must be very fun at cat parties, Cranky,” Harry says playfully and the cat looks away, he laughs, he never thought for a moment that he would be sitting in a bed with nothing else to do than tease some cat’s patience, but he’s there. 

The cat starts licking it’s pink paw again, while laying there, he’s pretty long and he’s paws look adorable, Harry wants to hold them, “Stop doing that or I will call you cute,” Harry says and Crunky drops his paw, looking at Harry with that gaze, that seems like the only he has, or maybe Harry is just very annoying, maybe both, “You’re that scared of being cute?” Harry says, and the cat is still staring at him, “I have bad news, Crunky,” He says and the cat complains with a small noise, Harry lets out another laugh. 

“Since you’re here Crunky, and you seem to understand me,” Harry says and his thoughts almost make him laugh, he can’t believe he’s talking to a cat like he’s a person, “I’m going to ask your opinion,” He says and lets out a small laugh, he’s actually asking to a cat, a cat that doesn’t know any story, that probably doesn’t even feel much, but since he can’t say anything is better asking him than Hermione for instance, “I want to talk to someone, you don’t know him, Crunky, his name is Draco Malfoy,” Harry tells, like he’s a friend, and then he laughs at himself, Crunky seems very confused and even adjusts his body on the bed, staring at him with his eyes big, and his pupils as big as his eyes.

“You see, Cranky,” Harry says and the cat gets up and sits, staring at Harry carefully, like he’s actually interested on what Harry has to say, “We hate each other,” Harry says, and sighs after it, Cranky blinks slowly, “I mean, I don’t know if I hate him,” The cat’s eyes get bigger, and it’s almost like he’s gossiping with a friend, because it’s funny how the cat actually seems surprised, “Should I talk to him?” Harry asks then, letting a hesitant gaze to Cranky, who is staring at him. He and the cat keep staring at each other, and then after 3 or so minutes, the cat nods. Harry opens his eyes very wide, and for a moment he wants to laugh, because he actually is taking a cat’s opinion into consideration. 

“You think so, Cranky?” Harry asks and looks up, “I don’t know why I asked your opinion,” Harry says and then laughs, and for the first time, Cranky's face seems more soft, more calm, and it’s weird. But comforting. Extremely comforting. For some weird reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos, it’s not too much but still every single of them make me happy!!
> 
> new chapter coming very soon!!!
> 
> rainy! (i made a twitter to talk more about drarry and struggle with writing it’s @dsrarry)


	3. More Nightmares and Failed Attempts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s here and i didn’t revise it sorry about any mistakes. also this one is so cute idk. i just liked it.

Harry is staring at Cranky when he realizes he has to study at least for some hours. And it’s funny because studying is the only productive thing he could do and as much as he wants to do something, studying is never the choice. But NEWTS are difficult and if Harry Potter wants an actual future, he has to do it. He gets up and Cranky stares at him, curious and big greyish eyes, and Harry wants to remember who had those eyes too.

Harry looks away and keeps going and when he’s almost at the table, a small white figure is walking right beside him, “You’re going to stalk me now?” Harry asks playfully and he thinks he sees the cat roll it’s eyes but that is not a thing cats do, and when he gets to the small table that he’s the only ones that uses it, he looks at his books and thinks of giving up, but he doesn’t, he sits on the wooden chair and stares at his books for a minute. Harry is startled, completely startled, when something jumps on his lap, and he’s even more startled to see Crunky, his paws weighing lightly on his legs, he doesn’t say anything, he just watches as the cat adjusts himself and then sits comfortably on his legs. The cat stares at him, it’s blue eyes looking completely unbothered and then looks straight again, closing its eyes.

“Comfortable?” Harry says smiling, and the cat nods with its eyes closed, and it’s funny how unbothered it looks. Harry moves his hands, and he’s about to touch Cranky’s head when suddenly he opens his head and turns his head facing Harry’s hand, he reaches for it, and gives Harry a bite, “Ouch?” Harry says, and twists his hand in the air, it wasn’t that strong but Cranky’s teeth are sharp, “So you’re going to lay in my lap and I can’t touch you?” Harry asks, dumbfounded and the cat looks at him, with its eyes half closed, he nods. Harry rolls his eyes, but Cranky is pretty warm so he allows him to stay there, while he reaches for his books.

Reading sucks, Harry thinks. 

Harry’s eyes are dropping and he doesn’t know when he became so sleepy, maybe reading and boredness can affect your sleeping schedule, and if it does, everything is explained. Crunky is sleeping and Harry almost considers sleeping on that chair to not disturb him, because he looks just adorable with his eyes closed on Harry’s lap, and that cat, he’s an asshole, and even sarcastic, but Harry thinks he’s so adorable, and Harry enjoys his company so much that it’s kind of okay. But as soon as he moves on the chair, Cranky opens its greyish eyes, and with a lazy gaze, he looks at Harry, and if Harry didn’t know Cranky would bite him, he would pet his head like his life depends on it, “I’m going to bed,” Harry says, like Cranky cares, and the cat nods.

Cranky gets up and stretches his body up almost touching Harry’s face, and Harry stares at him smiling. And it’s so good to smile, Harry feels a warmth in his heart that was lacking, and it’s amazing, that small annoying being makes him happy. Cranky jumps out of Harry’s lap and he walks forward, and Harry stares at him, seeing where he is going, and he’s not leaving.

“Are you staying with me tonight?” Harry asks, and the cat doesn’t look at him, it only jumps in his bed and starts to spin around on the corner of the bed, and that’s a confirmation. 

Harry gets up smiling and he doesn’t care about changing clothes because he’s tired, and he carefully sits on the bed, and cranky is already laying down, in the corner of the bed, taking little space, Harry keeps smiling. He takes off his glasses and then lays down, also in the corner, and there’s a lot of space between him and Cranky, but it’s good to have something with you. 

“Goodnight, Cranky,” Harry says, and it’s silent for a while, and then, “Meow,” Cranky says back. Harry’s eyes close, and there’s darkness, and more darkness, and then everything settles in place. And as much as the world is dark, Harry knows he’s entering places.

Dark walls with bricks, a door, coldness so much coldness. Everyone is talking and it’s loud, and it gets louder and louder and louder, Harry can’t cover his ears he can’t move. And he’s sitting in a corner, every one shouts his name, and still locked completely in place, it shifts, and Harry sees himself in third person, screaming, Remus is holding him thigh, and Harry cries and cries, while he sees himself screaming, while he sees himself losing everything he has. There’s so much emptiness and everything gets so dark and so cold again, there’s wind, and then the figure, the figure of someone Harry would rather forget, but it’s there, tall, long robes, greenish skin, red eyes that carry the darkest of thing, and he smiles at Harry sarcastically, and everyone laughs, wicked laughs, and Harry curls himself more and more, as it gets colder and colder.

Harry hears that scream again, and the green lights and he cries and cries and it’s loud, sobbing, screaming, and the world crumbles and crashes around his body, and suddenly he has no floor, and he keeps falling and falling. When his body hits the ground, after what seemed hours of hopelessly falling into a deep dark sea, he’s laying in the great hall, with a sea of bodies around him. Harry tries closing his eyes but he’s unable to do it. And it’s cold, so cold. 

When Harry is shivering, whimpering and shaking, while his eyes drop endless tears, Harry feels arms around him, and he doesn’t see anyone, he feels the pressure of a body against him, and suddenly he’s warm, and it gets warmer and warmer, and his head is pressed against something strong. The coldness becomes warmth, comforting warmth and all he can do is smell lemons and rain. A citrus smell that grows as the pressure gets stronger and stronger, and Harry finally closes his eyes, and there’s nothing there, but more and more citrus. 

*

He wakes up in a haze because something moves in the bed he’s laying on, something is impatient and there’s despair. When he finally opens his eyes, there’s a boy beside him, shaking, and moving in the bed, his messy hair glued to his forehead. And now he remembers where he is. 

Sudden despair hits, and then from small, he becomes bigger, in a new shape, the one he lived more with. And he adjusts himself in the bed, scared, not knowing what to do in his new shape. And when he sees a tear falling down the immaculate cheek, he does what he never thought he would, but always knew he wanted. And now that is needed, he tries.

When his arms go around the body, and he brings it closer, he’s still moving so much, and he tightens the grip, holding him against his chest, and the breath that used to be so exasperated is cooling down, like from thunder to pouring rain. And when he’s breathing normally, he realizes what he has done. As quickly as he made the decision to hold him, he makes the decision to let him go. 

And while the moon stares at him from the window, from big he becomes small, and runs, like his life depends on it. 

*

Birds are singing when Harry half opens his eyes, and it sounds comforting, he’s in the same position he slept on and it’s so weird because normally he’s all over the place. Cranky is not with him anymore he notes to himself, and then small memories from his dreams come back. And Harry can almost smell citrus in the air but it leaves as soon as he gets a small glimpse of it, and it’s kind of frustrating, because that smell is comforting. He doesn’t put the points together and he doesn’t know what it was, who smelled like that, because he never felt it before, and it’s confusing his brain knows that smell. 

Harry gets up thinking about citrus, cats and warm hugs, and it’s the best he has ever felt, there’s something inside him that lost weight and it’s honestly like he’s breathing new air. Harry finds it odd, it’s close to when he took Felix Felicis, but less amazing, he’s actually hungry, and not tired at all. He wants to get used to that feeling. 

Harry goes down those stressing stairs calmly and then when he reaches the Great Hall his eyes fiscalize everything around him. He sees his friends and quickly peaks at the Slytherin table, and he’s there, looking down, looking unpleasant, and Harry feels dangerously courageous that day. He takes his eyes off him, and proceeds to walk towards his friends, Hermione is sipping tea while watching Ron talk excitedly about something, and he likes their dynamic, it’s like seeing the moon and the sun interact, while one is burning and producing light, the other is calmly giving a small glimpse of light, quietly, but huge. Harry sits down right beside Hermione, who looks at him, a weird gaze on her face.

“You’re looking oddly great today,” She says, and Harry smiles at her, once again not knowing if she just knows him very well or if he’s actually so obviously good. 

“She’s right, mate,” Ron says and Harry looks at him, the lightning on the Great Hall always makes Ron’s hair shine, and the orange mess on his head always glimmers, Harry finds that cool, how his hair is like fire. Harry thinks about how his hair is plain like wood, and how Malfoy’s hair is light like snow, and he doesn’t really know why Malfoy came to mind.

“I slept well, I guess,” Harry says simply, he already exposed so many details about his thoughts to Hermione and he doesn’t want to expose himself again, and he knows Hermione is already overthinking about those things he said, he must admit he is too. 

Harry looks over his shoulder, and Draco doesn’t seem to have moved a muscle, still with his head down, nothing on his plate. And Harry wants him to look up, Harry wants him to look at him, he wants to see something on his face, an expression, or just to see his face at all. It’s frustrating because he doesn’t. Harry looks forward, Hermione is staring at him quietly and Harry ignores it, reaching for food because he’s hungry.

First period is potions, and Harry is the first to get there so he stays at the door, waiting, and a good amount of familiar faces are coming, almost everyone says hi to him, and he hates it on normal days, but today, he says it back. After almost everyone is there, alone comes the person Harry was waiting for and didn’t even realize. Looking at his own feet while he walks and holding a big book, comes Malfoy, and he doesn’t look up at all, when he’s getting closer to the door, Harry’s stomach is hurting with anxiety.

“Malfoy,” He calls, and he’s shaking and he doesn’t know why, Harry never felt so nervous his entire life. And when Draco finally looks up, his hands are sweating, and there it is, Draco’s greyish blue eyes staring at him, his face is blank, no hatred, no disgust, no surprise and it’s underwhelming. Draco is standing there with his blank eyes, staring at Harry, and he realizes he has to say something, “Did you do… Your homework?” Harry says and embarrassment runs through his body, deep embarrassment, and he wishes now to have planned before deciding to talk to him.

Draco’s face doesn’t change, not even the slightest, and he nods, politely even and then passes right by Harry’s side coming into the classroom. And Harry stands there, there’s a slight smell in the air, and it’s so slight Harry doesn’t know how it smells like, and he failed his attempt. It sucks, he wanted something, a burn, a push, just anything but blank eyes and polite nods. And Harry sighs, getting inside the classroom too.

He can’t focus on potions, he keeps giving Malfoy small looks, checking on him, and he’s so utterly quiet, no reaction, just brilliant potion making with calm gestures and Harry hates how unbothered he is, he hates everything about this Draco Malfoy, because it seems like a shell, with nothing inside. And he doesn’t know why he cares, why he hates it so deeply, why that is the only thing he can concentrate on. But he can’t stop.

During the day Harry feels like he’s in his sixth year again, watching almost every move that Malfoy does, he watches everything and he keeps looking for a reaction, he keeps looking for a little change in his eyes, and there’s nothing there, but two blue pools. Harry thinks he’s going insane, looking desperately for something in him. He’s probably bored, at least, he forces himself to believe Draco is his adventure.

At the last period, transfiguration, Harry stays at the door in the end, because he knows Draco is always the last to get in or out of class, Harry is not known for giving up, actually he’s obnoxiously persistent some would say. So he will keep trying, and the fact that Draco might get pissed and tell him to fuck off is not scary, he wants to hear him say something, do something. 

Draco passes by him, unbothered, and doesn’t look up, but Harry reaches for his arm, and it was supposed to be a slight nod, but he holded Draco’s wrist when he tried to keep on going. And for the first time there’s something in his grey eyes when he looks back, Harry doesn’t know what it is, it shines, he doesn’t know what and he looks surprised for a little and then he frowns. But he doesn’t say anything he just stays there frozen one eyebrow up, and the grey eyes with a soft glimer. What is it? What is in your eyes, Draco? This thing that isn’t sadness. 

“Malfoy,” Harry says, because he has to say something, he can’t just stand there, watching that thing inside Draco’s eyes he can’t understand, feeling the cold soft skin of his wrist on his hand, and he should let it go, but he doesn’t want to let him go yet, “Did you enjoy class?” Harry says then, his eyes focused on Draco’s eyes, and Draco denies with his head, still no words, and Harry wants him to say anything, maybe just say “Potter” in that angry tone of his. Make fun of me, tell me stop talking to you, stop touching your wrist. 

“Was it that terrible?” Harry asks, it’s small talk and he wants Draco to be annoyed, but he nods, he only nods. And Harry doesn’t know what to do, or what he’s doing, holding Draco’s wrist in the middle of the hallway trying to get something from him, but his eyes, that thing in his eyes is enough. It’s a victory, a small victory, even though his attempts to talk to him are failing. 

Draco turns away, and he doesn’t force his arm out, just twists it, and Harry thinks he feels something more rough on his soft skin and it sparks curiosity, Harry doesn’t know if it’s a scar or something, but he lets go. And he stays there, looking at the back of Draco’s head, the soft blonde hair, shining, and getting far and more far. 

Harry wants to know what Draco is thinking, why he chooses to stay quiet, what makes his eyes so sad, what made them shine, and what is that thing on his wrist, Draco leaves Harry with so many questions he can’t ask, that he wishes he could ask, but Draco doesn’t even answer the ones that are simple. 

He goes back to his room that night filled with a thousand questions and when he gets there, Cranky is already on his bed, laying down comfortably and quietly, with its eyes opened, when Harry approaches the bed Cranky looks at him, big grey eyes. And those eyes make him remember something, or someone, and Harry used to be confused, but after today, after gazing at the small gimpleses of lighting inside eyes that look crystal clear oceans. Harry knows. Cranky has Draco’s eyes, grey, pretty and mysterious. Harry smiles at the cat, and he tells himself it’s just because Cranky makes him smile and not because looking at its eyes reminds him of something. 

“Hello, Cranky,” Harry says, and then he lays right beside the cat, staring at the ceiling, “How are you today?” Harry asks, even though Cranky can’t respond with actual words, and Cranky lets out a small noise, “I hope that means you’re fine,” Harry says smiling at the ceiling and it’s dumb, he feels dumb, “You didn’t ask Cranky, but I’m fine too,” Harry says then, and he wants to tell Cranky about his day and it’s funny because it’s just a cat, but Harry wants to talk and talk about everything and he couldn’t tell it to anyone he knows.

“Cranky,” Harry turns to the side and he’s facing Cranky who moves his head away from him, Harry giggles, “Fine,” He says before getting more up and away from Cranky’s face, “Do you remember what I asked you?” And Cranky is staring at him, confused, “About talking to Draco,” Cranky nods and Harry smiles, he thought cats couldn’t remember stuff, but Cranky is a different cat, for some reason. 

“I tried, Cranky,” And Cranky nods again, almost like he’s asking Harry to keep going, it’s probably not it, but Harry takes as it was, “Twice,” Harry says and Draco is staring at him with his grey eyes, and there’s no such thing as cats having actual face expressions but Cranky looks interested, so Harry decides that as dumb as it is, he will rant about Draco with this cat. 

“And he doesn’t talk to me,” Harry says, angst in his voice, and it actually makes him pissed, “He’s just like you, he nods or denies, at least you meow sometimes,” And Cranky is staring at him and there’s a thing in Harry that says that if Cranky could laugh he would be laughing at him. And after he says that, Cranky lets out a small meow and Harry smiles. 

“He reacted though,” Harry says then, and a feeling hits his stomach, a feeling that is funny, ticklish and he remembers Draco’s eyes, glimmering, with something, a small something, and it makes him crazy, “His eyes, were shining,” Harry says and the feeling in his stomach grows and grows, “And I don’t think I’ve seen his eyes glow in awhile,” Harry looks up at the ceiling, and his head is filled with images of Draco’s eyes, “He just, so sad… I think he’s sad at least, his eyes look like he’s sad,” When Harry looks down, Cranky’s eyes are bigger, and his pupils too, dilated, grey, like the crystal clear sea, and Harry stares at it, with memories, “You have his eyes,” Harry says then, very small, “But your are more expressive,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall enjoy it (i’m already writing the next one so it will be here very soon)
> 
> rainy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Rainy.


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